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Текст песни W.C. and the MAAD Circle - Dress Code

W.C. and the MAAD Circle - Dress Code слова песни

[ VERSE 1: W.C. ]You know what`s makin me mad?Day after day I`m catchin all of this slackSeems you gotta wear a suit, unlesss you wanna jackedCause in the `90s, y`all, these fools got a set of them thangsWhere if you ain`t wearin a three-piece suit, you gotta gangbangI walked in a rest`, bout to order, andPeople starin like a had manure on my pantsGrabbin they purse, checkin they wallets in the backAnd thinkin I`ma rob em, cause I`m in all blackYo, my Curduroys are cuffed with a crease down the middleSnakeskin around my waist, so my pants hang a littleBut I don`t deal the package of crackSo what`s the reason for the dirty looks?Yo, check my name in your booksSeem like everytime I slap on my Starter capAnd step for a breath of fresh airI end up fillin up a questionnaire`What`s your name?` `Where you`re goin?` `Yo, what gang are you from?`They tell me, "Don`t get smart", and so I play dumbCause when I tell em where I stay, it doesn`t get betterLive in South Central, they assume you got a jail recordA stereotypical attitudeThat if you look like me, you gotta run with a crewCause when I step upon the scene everybody`s gettin petrolNo matter what the color (What`s up?) I`m gettin sweated for my dress code(Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps)(That`s why) (they dress just like) (suckers)(Ha?) (suckers) (What?) (suckers)[ VERSE 2 ][ W.C. ]What is this, a prison? I`m buggin off the way that I`m livinSeems everywhere I turn I`m assumin the positionAt school I`m gettin tired of hearin the same old thingHere come the rickety security, sweatin me for my earringI don`t carry a gun, though they consider me a threatI guess I got em scared by the way that I dressUnlike you I couldn`t afford to shop at Macy`s or Penny`sSo it`s off to the swap meet for a fresh pair of Dickey`sSo what you`re tellin me, is now I`m a crookWho wrote the book on how a kid in my position`s supposed to look?[ Coolio ]Get me a fade and a pair of tight pantsI get a chance with the girls who wouldn`t give me a glanceA big funny lookin hat just to cover my napsA pair of patten leather shoes might keep me out of scrapsIf I made that turn, it might save me some troubleBut I gotta watch my back, on the alert for a squabble`Don`t go here, don`t go there,` brothers comin up missinGot a pocket full of money, and I`m still getttin dissedCause it`s a scam or a phase of my life that I`m goin throughIf you dress like me, you gotta run with a crewI`m tickin like a timebomb, ready to explodeEven in my frontyard (What`s up) I`m gettin sweated for my dress code(Alright, fellasNo tennis shoes, no hats, no khakis, alright?)[ VERSE 3: W.C. ]Let`s take a trip to the club scene (somebody tell me what`s goin on)You gotta wear a silk shirt just to dance to a funky songBouncers makin enemies for minimum wageBut they`re the first ones to run when the club gets sprayedDon`t wanna let me in, because I`m wearin my beeperAnd if you`re sportin gold, then you gotta be a dope dealer(I paid 17.50 to hear a funky rhyme flowAnd they`re sweatin at the do` like I just entered a fashion show)Yo, they put a curfew on Westwood, to keep me in my neighborhoodMy hat`s to the back, so I must be up to no good(I got a jacket on my back for the fact that I rapAnd they heard I was from Compton, so they ran they pennies back)Scared of me for what, no, I don`t wear tuxAnd if I ever got a Grammy, man, I`d bail in some ChuckTailors to show the whole world it`s alright to be yourselfShould I change the way I dress, so I can look like the rest?Wearin red, black and green, but they don`t know what it meansPut on a African medaillon, now they`re down with the teamPerpatratin for a click, first they wouldn`t, now they switchedBut they ain`t gettin rich (Ain`t that a bitch?)Go strike a G.Q. pose, I got soul in my strollSo they ban my video (For what?) Cause they didn`t like my dress code

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